


Battle of the Bands

by marichatting



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Idk what happened, M/M, Modern AU, anyway it's probably the best fic i've ever written and i love it a lot, but it ended up over 14k words, hogwarts is a music school, idk but they do music instead of magic, it's cute, this was supposed to be short, you're a musician harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-05 16:15:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11016975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marichatting/pseuds/marichatting
Summary: Harry Potter has played guitar since he was eleven years old. Now he's seventeen, and after this school year, he'll be too old to continue his weekly lessons at Hogwarts Music Center. He decides to make his last year count by competing in the annual Battle of the Bands competition at the end of the school year.The only problem is that Draco Malfoy is competing, too.Harry and Draco are rivals, and now that Harry knows Draco is competing, Harry will stop at nothing to win.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So. I wrote this whole thing ahead of time, so I already have all the chapters written and everything. I'll post regularly. Also, this was supposed to be just a short little fic but it ended up over 14k words and I'm not quite sure how that happened.

Harry first started playing guitar when he was eleven years old.

He walked into the Hogwarts Music Center with a heart full of happiness, already feeling at home. Hogwarts was both a music store and a lesson center, and he was surrounded by musical instruments everywhere he looked. People were strumming guitars in one corner, beating on drums in another, playing electric keyboards in another, and browsing for sheet music in the center of it all. Music filled the air, noise coming at him from every direction, and he never felt more at home in the atmosphere of beautiful controlled chaos.

Harry's parents had been musicians, but they had been killed when he was an infant. He had lived with his aunt and uncle his entire life, but they had never allowed him to play music like his parents did- until now.

He looked and felt tiny with the acoustic guitar strapped to his back in its case, but he eagerly made his way to the big sign in the back labeled "lessons".

Harry felt so powerful strumming his guitar in that first lesson. He could make music. Not just tapping and humming, real music. For once in his life, he felt perfectly happy and in control. He decided he never wanted to lose that feeling again.

That feeling of joy only increased when he met Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They were both new students, too- Ron played bass guitar, and Hermione played the drums. They were both really nice and, despite the fact that they bickered a lot even from that first day, he knew he wanted to be friends with them as long as he could.

Draco Malfoy was a different story.

Draco Malfoy was a pale kid with slicked-back blond hair who played the drums. He always wore a sneer on his face, especially when looking at Hermione and Ron. He put himself on a pedestal because his parents, grand parents, great-grandparents, and on and on through the generations were all musicians.

Malfoy spoke to Harry on their first day of lessons as soon as he heard the names of Harry's parents.

"You're Lily and James Potter's son?" he said, to which Harry nodded. Malfoy introduced himself. "I'm Draco Malfoy. My family is all musicians, and has been for centuries- there's a rumor we're descended from Mozart. Anyway, what I'm saying is: I'm like royalty around here. By being the son of Lily and James Potter, you're like... almost royalty. You should be spending time with people like me, not-" he shoots an irritated glance at Ron and Hermione. "-well, you know. You don't want to be seen hanging out with the wrong sort of people."

Harry glared at him with all the coldness his tiny self could muster up. "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks."

***

The Potter-Malfoy feud thrived for several years.

The two were constantly at each other's throats for six years. Every time they saw each other in the Music Center or at performances, it was nonstop bickering.

They watched each other grow up. Harry watched as Malfoy stopped slicking back his hair and let it grow out to be long and unruly, and nearly to his shoulders. Malfoy watched Harry grow into a tall boy with a few tattoos- a lightning bolt on his forearm, a small golden ball with wings on his collarbone, a white owl on his lower back, which Draco saw when Harry was showing it off to Ron and Hermione after he first got it- an eyebrow ring, and a small piercing in the side of his nose. Malfoy himself had eyebrow, nose, and lip piercings, plus full tattoo sleeves. Harry always wore old, too-big clothes handed down to him from his cousin- old t-shirts, ripped, baggy jeans, and worn, dirty sneakers- and maybe a t-shirt of his own that actually fit every now and then. Malfoy mostly wore ripped black skinny jeans and sneakers, along with a black t-shirt or tank top and sometimes accompanied by a leather jacket.

Harry and Malfoy tried to spend as little time together as possible, but its was difficult to avoid each other entirely, seeing as how their lessons were at the same time on the same day and they were both too stubborn to change. Plus, they both spent a lot of time at Hogwarts, even when they weren't at lessons. They both worked there, acted as substitutes when the teachers couldn't make it, and just generally hung out. For Harry, it was an escape from the Dursleys to a place that truly felt like home. For Draco, it was an escape from a cold, unforgiving home environment solely focused on being the best instead of having fun.

Now they're seventeen, the new school year is beginning, and lessons are resuming for those who took the summer off. After this school year, Harry and Malfoy will both be too old to continue taking lessons at Hogwarts.

There's an event at the end of every school year for students who have been taking lessons for at least three years: Battle of the Bands. Students have the opportunity to join other students and form a band, then compete against the rest. Neither Malfoy nor Harry has ever competed in it before, but this year they both they decide they will- if only because it's their last opportunity.

Harry gets his band together on the first day back at lessons. Hermione on drums, Ron on bass, himself on lead guitar, Ron's sister Ginny on rhythm guitar, and their friend Neville on keyboard.

Draco is already in his band, and has been since he was fourteen. Pansy Parkinson on keyboard, Blaise Zabini on lead guitar, Theodore Nott on bass, himself on drums, and Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle doing background vocals because they wanted to be included.

When the boys find out they will be competing against each other, they start pushing themselves and their bandmates harder than they've ever been pushed before in order to be the best.

Their friends are getting sick of them.

They decide to do something about it.

***

"Why are we here, Pansy?" Ginny asks with crossed arms. "We have a very rare break from rehearsal right now, and I'd like to spend it doing something enjoyable."

"So Potter's obsessing over this thing, too?" Pansy asks, speaking quietly. She had delivered secret messages to all of them through other students telling them to meet her and her bandmates- except Draco- behind Hogwarts on Saturday at noon, and here they are. She kind of thought they wouldn't show up, but they did. Really not very wise on their part.

Ron narrows his eyes. "What is this about, Parkinson?"

Pansy huffs and tucks a green-streaked strand of dark hair behind her ear. "Draco- he's gone insane. He's so determined to beat Potter at this stupid Battle of the Bands thing. It's ridiculous! He's obsessed with beating him, and I'm sick of it."

"Harry's been the same way," Hermione says hesitantly. "Ever since he found out you guys are competing, he's been making us have five-hour practices every day after school, and he's even worse on weekends."

"We need to do something about it," Pansy urges them. "I don't like you, but right now we have a common enemy- the Potter-Malfoy rivalry." She sighs deeply. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think the feud needs to come to an end entirely. It's lasted long enough."

Ron lets out a breathy, bitter sort of laugh. "Tell me about it. Harry's great and all, and he's my best mate, but all I've heard from the guy the past few years is Malfoy this and Malfoy that- I've heard so many conspiracy theories about the Malfoys I don't know what's real and what's not anymore. Are they all natural brunettes? Clones? Satanic cult leaders? I don't know!"

"So you'll help us?" Theodore says.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville all look at each other hesitantly. They come together in a huddle, whispering and debating amongst themselves.

Finally they come out of the huddle. Hermione slowly walks toward Pansy.

She holds her hand out.

"We're in," she says.

Pansy smiles and shakes Hermione's hand."Excellent."


	2. Chapter 2

"Where are we going?" Harry asks, covering his eyes with his hands.

"It's a surprise," Hermione responds, guiding him by the shoulders. "Now be quiet."

Up ahead, she sees Pansy ushering a blindfolded Draco Malfoy into a practice room. Hermione ushers Harry down the hall and into the room.

"Don't uncover your eyes yet," she warns as Ron sets up Harry's guitar next to the drum set already in the room and leaves two pencils and a stack of blank sheet music on the piano.

Ron rushes back out into the hallway with the two groups of people and Blaise shuts and locks the door.

"Open your eyes," Hermione and Pansy instruct together.

The two boys uncover their eyes and look around. Slowly, it dawns on them what has happened.

"What is he doing here?" Harry demands, glaring at Malfoy's bandmates through the window built into the door. "What's going on?"

"We're not doing Battle of the Bands anymore," Ron tells him.

"What?!"

"Ha!" Malfoy laughs in glee. "Your team quits! That means I beat you by default!"

"We're not doing it either," Theodore tells him.

Malfoy whips his head around to glare at him. "What?"

"None of us are competing in Battle of the Bands until this rivalry of yours ends and you stop making us practice until our fingers bleed!" Ginny says, holding up her bandaged fingertips for emphasis. "We still have seven months until Battle of the Bands! We don't need so much practice for three songs."

"You two are going to stay in here for the next hour and work on writing a song together," Pansy instructs them. "Tomorrow, you'll do it again for another hour, and the day after that, and the day after that, until the song is done, you've performed it for us, it meets our standards, and you're not trying to kill each other anymore. After that, we'll agree to do Battle of the Bands again, but if you're still power-hungry, practice-crazed maniacs obsessed with beating each other in this stupid competition, we're not competing."

"What is the point of this? Why can't you just ask for less practice time like sane people?" Harry demands.

"The point is to make you two spend time together," Hermione explains. "If you start getting along better- which you'll have to do to write the song- the Potter-Malfoy rivalry can finally end, and we can be free from this torture we've all been putting up with for years."

"This is ridiculous," Malfoy huffs. "I can't get along with him!"

Pansy shrugs. "Not my problem. I never wanted to do Battle of the Bands anyway."

Malfoy glares at her. "Fine," he finally huffs. "I'll give it a go."

"Great," Hermione says. "By the way..." she takes a cell phone out of her pocket and holds it up for them to see, and Pansy does the same. "You can't just look up and learn an original song by someone on YouTube."

The boys' eyes widen.

"You took my phone?!" Harry yelps, grabbing at his pockets only to find them empty.

"That is low," Malfoy snarls, glaring at his friends.

Pansy shrugs. "Whatever it takes. Now get to work."

***

Half an hour later, the two boys are standing in the locked room screaming at each other.

"You're such a selfish prat!" Harry shouts. "You only care about yourself!"

"Oh, I'm the selfish prat?" Draco retorts. His voice takes on a nasally tone and he begins to wave his arms around dramatically. "Oh look at me, I'm Harry Potter, the poor, mistreated orphan who is just oh-so-talented and somehow manages to practically uproot the entirety of Hogwarts every year one way or another!" His arms fall to his sides and his voice returns to normal. "Honestly, my teacher is always going on and on about how great you are- I hardly ever have the time to actually learn anything in lessons!"

Their friends watch on the security cameras and sigh as the boys continue their screaming match.

***

The next day, as the boys are locked in the room again, they can hardly look at each other, let alone speak to one another.

"Look," Harry finally says. "We both want to compete in the Battle of the Bands. But that's not going to happen if we don't write this song. So, no matter how much we hate each other, I say we should suck it up and write the song."

Malfoy hesitates, but then nods.

"Okay," Harry says. "What should it be about?"

Malfoy shrugs. "Something meaningful? Write about that girlfriend of yours- the Weaslette."

Harry scowls. "She's not my girlfriend."

"Write about a past girlfriend then," Malfoy says.

Harry thinks about it, remembering his only previous girlfriend: a girl from school named Cho when he was fifteen.

He shakes his head slowly. "I've only ever had one girlfriend, and I really liked her, but that relationship just wasn't song material."

"So then what is song material?" Malfoy asks. "What has meaning to you?"

Harry thinks it over for a moment. "Music."

"Well," Malfoy says slowly. "We're already doing the music part. What else has meaning to you?"

Harry thinks it over. "My friends? I don't know- what has meaning to you?"

"What about your home life?" Malfoy asks, dodging the question. "What's that like?"

Harry scowls. "No one wants to hear a song about that."

"Why not? We could write a song expressing your sorrow at the loss of your parents or something."

After a long hesitation, Harry nods. "Okay, I guess that's fine."

Malfoy raises an eyebrow. "Unless it's too sensitive a subject, or expressing that much emotion makes you uncomfortable in your sexuality, or something."

"Uncomfortable in my sexuality?" Harry says with a laugh. "Please. I'm comfortable in my sexuality. Way comfortable."

"And which sexuality would that be?" Malfoy asks with a smirk.

Harry looks genuinely stunned. "Which se- I'm straight, obviously!"

"You seem awfully defensive- almost as if you're hiding something."

"I- I'm not defensive! I'm just letting you know I'm straight."

"Mm-hmm," Malfoy hums. "Okay."

Harry scowls at him. "What's your sexuality, then?"

"Well, that's the question, isn't it?"

Harry stares at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Good question. What does that mean? What does anything mean? Why are we even here?"

Harry stares at him for a moment, dumbfounded, eyes narrowed, mouth slightly ajar. "What?"

Malfoy nods. "What, indeed."

Harry stares at him a moment longer, then shakes his head. "Whatever. We have a song to write, so let's get working."

***

At the end of the hour, the boys have made very little progress. All they have is a vague idea of the melody.

"Try to think of some lyrics tonight," Malfoy instructs Harry as they're walking out of the room. "I'll do the same. We need to get this song finished as soon as possible."

***

Draco groans and lies back on his bed. This is useless, he thinks.

He's spent an hour trying to think of lyrics for this song- any lyrics- but with no luck.

That's when he realizes that this is a song only Harry Potter can write.    


	3. Chapter 3

"We need to change the song," Malfoy says as a greeting the next day.

Harry blinks. "What?"

"I can't relate to this. My parents aren't dead. I can't relate to that. I can't write a song if I can't relate to it."

Harry nods. "Okay, okay, fine. Let's change it, then."

The boys sit down and start brainstorming song ideas.

Half an hour later, they still have nothing.

They're sitting in silence and thinking. Harry is staring hard at the wall, and Malfoy is studying Harry and tapping his fingers on his thigh.

"Why do you always wear such oversized clothes?" Malfoy suddenly asks.

Harry looks at him. "What?"

"You always dress like you're twice as big as you are. Why? Is it just your aesthetic or something?"

Harry scowls at him. "No, it's not my aesthetic, idiot. I wear hand-me-downs from my cousin."

Malfoy quirks an eyebrow. "Every day?"

"Yes."

"Do you not have any of your own clothes?"

"I have some. Not a lot, though."

"Why?"

"My aunt and uncle don't think it necessary to buy new clothes for me when I could just wear Dudley's old ones."

Malfoy wrinkles his nose. "Who names their kid Dudley?"

"Who names their kid Draco?"

Malfoy gives him a brief glare, but quickly shakes off the insult. "Well, that sucks. You could probably be pretty good-looking with some decent-fitting clothes."

Harry leans back in his chair, lifting the two front legs off the ground, and smirks in a stereotypical cool-guy pose. "I'm already good-looking, Malfoy." His chair chooses that exact moment to tip over backwards.

Harry lands on the ground with a thud. Malfoy snorts.

"So attractive," Malfoy teases him.

Harry gets up from the ground, scowling at him. "Shut up." He sets his chair back up and sits down again.

They are silent again for about five minutes until Malfoy speaks.

"What if we write about love?"

Harry looks at him. "Wow. What a fresh, original idea," he deadpans.

"Hear me out," Malfoy tells him. "We write about someone who is starting to take interest in someone they grew up with and never thought they'd fall for, and their falling for that person is helping them start to really figure out who they are."

"Well I can't relate to it now."

"Neither can I, but I don't think we're going to find much that we can both relate to, so why not just go with something that's not about either of our lives?"

Harry nods slowly. "Okay. Sure."

***

At the end of the hour, they have the first draft of the chorus written.

They both promise to think about it more that night.

Draco thinks about it every second after they part.

He can't stop thinking about it.

***

Harry is having trouble. He is sitting on his small bed trying to think of some song lyrics, but nothing is coming to him.

He thinks of Cho, his first girlfriend. He tries to mentally turn their relationship into a scenario like the song, but it doesn't work.

He thinks of Ginny, who rejected him months ago and came out as gay in the process, revealing that she had a girlfriend named Luna who took piano lessons at Hogwarts.

He never thought he'd fall for his best friend's sister when they were growing up. It fits for the song- except that it didn't do anything to help Harry figure out anything about himself or who he is.

He wonders if Malfoy is having any more luck than he is.

***

That night, Draco paces back and forth in his large bedroom trying to convince himself he's wrong.

He's obnoxious and self-centered, he tells himself over and over again. I just feel sorry for him. Yeah, that's it- I pity him! His parents are dead, his aunt and uncle don't even care for him enough to buy new clothes for him, and he wears unattractive, too-big clothes all the time. That sucks. I pity him.

Still, Draco can't stop seeing that little smirk on Potter's light brown skin and how his hair was even more ruffled after he fell out of the chair- annoyingly, endearingly ruffled. He can't shake that nagging feeling that Potter might not be quite as awful as he's thought all these years. That he might actually just be a cute dork who falls out of chairs and wears clothes that don't fit.

He also can't stop thinking about the clothes. That boy needs to go shopping.

Finally Draco grabs a small notebook, sits on his bed, and starts to think about the song.

After about twenty minutes he has a surprisingly large number of lines written down- three.

And they're all about the person he opposed from day one but accidentally started to fall for.

A fictional person, of course. A nonexistent person, the idea of whom only in existence because of this song.

Obviously.

***

"How'd your songwriting go?" Harry asks Malfoy upon seeing him in the practice room the next day.

Malfoy nods. "It was okay. I came up with three whole lines. Are you impressed?"

Harry laughs. "So impressed. Actually, you wrote three more lines than I did."

"Well, what can I say? I've known from the start that I'm a better musician than you are."

"Keep dreaming, blondie."

Malfoy laughs, but doesn't respond.

"So, let's hear your lines," Harry says after a moment.

Malfoy nods and takes out a small notebook, opens it to the first page, and begins to sing.

When he finishes, Harry is watching him carefully. "You have a nice voice."

Malfoy swallows and appears to turn a bit red, but is quick to shoot back. "Of course I do. I'm immensely talented- which is a feeling I'm sure you're not familiar with."

Harry scoffs. "Please. I am so much more talented than you are."

"In what universe?"

"In every universe."

***

The two boys continue to playfully bicker as, unbeknownst to them, their friends watch on the security cameras again, feeling a blossoming sense of accomplishment when they see the boys smile.

***

After a couple of weeks, the boys are actually getting along- they even start to seem like friends, although they deny it at every chance they get.

"Hey D-Shizzle," Harry says by way of greeting one day as he enters the practice room, receiving a glare in response. "Can I call you D-Shizzle?"

"No."

Harry nods thoughtfully. "I'm gonna call you D-Shizzle."

"I'm gonna stab you."

Harry shrugs. "That's expected either way. So how are we doing on the song?"

"I think we're just about done," Malfoy responds. "I think the bridge needs some touching up, and we still have a couple of lines we need to fill up in the second verse, but other than that, we just need to get practicing, so we can perform it for our friends and finally get back to band practice."

"All right," Harry grins and rubs his hands together. "Let's get crackin', D-Shizzle. Hey! I just thought of a name for our two-man band! Super Awesome Lightning Man And His Not-So-Trusty Sidekick, D-Shizzle!"

"I was serious about the whole stabbing thing. And why Lightning Man?"

"Because lightning is cool, and so am I- that's the same reason there are lightning bolts on my guitar, and why I have a lightning bolt tattoo on my arm."

Draco rolls his eyes. "That's so stupid. Also, you're definitely not cool enough to be called Lightning Man."

"Please, you love me," Harry says, smirking at him.

Harry doesn't understand why Malfoy's face turns so red at the accusation, nor why he sputters so much whilst trying to defend himself.

***

Draco wants to die.

Well, maybe not die, but just kind of... disappear from the earth entirely, along with all memory and record of himself, so that he never really existed at all.

This can't be happening, he thinks, burying his face in his pillow.

He can't be feeling this way about Harry Potter, of all people! They've been sworn enemies since the beginning. There's no way he can have- Draco cringes, ashamed to even think it- feelings for him.

No way.

Draco rolls over onto his back and stares at the ceiling.

Okay, he thinks. I'm going to figure this out. What do I know about Harry Potter?

He can be very obnoxious. He has egotistical tendencies. He's kind of an idiot.

He's also talented and pretty nice. Moderately friendly. Good-looking, definitely. Funny, charming, endearing. Kind of adorable. He does this thing with his tongue where he sort of sticks it out the corner of his mouth a bit when he smiles, which is super cute, and Draco melts a little bit every time he does it.

Holy crap, Draco thinks, eyes widening.

I have a crush on Harry Potter.    


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to upload every day, but I've been in drivers ed for ten hours a day the past couple of days, so I completely forgot- sorry! I'm posting three chapters now to make up for the time lost! :) Also, thank you to everyone reading this. I worked on this for so long and I really, really love it.

A week later, they're preparing to perform the song for their friends, Draco is sitting at the drum set in the practice room, and he can't take his eyes off Harry, who is sitting on a wooden stool and tuning his guitar.

For the past week, ever since The Revelation™ (as Draco likes to refer to it in his head), he's been more open to the concept of having feelings for Harry. It's like when he had a crush on Blaise when he was fourteen- he cringes internally, still unsure of how on Earth that happened, and tremendously glad he got over it quickly- and he realized he wasn't straight. After that, he had a much more open mind to having feelings for people of the same gender, and it didn't feel nearly as scandalous after he had accepted his sexuality. He stopped subconsciously trying to suppress it, and he was a lot happier afterward. This is a lot like that- liking Harry seems so natural now, while when he was still trying to convince himself he hated him, it seemed like an abomination.

He thinks about the song. It really is a good song. When Draco first proposed the idea- someone falling for someone they never thought they'd fall for, learning something new about themselves along the way- he had originally been thinking about Blaise, but he lied to Harry and told him he couldn't relate to the song because there is no way he wants to let people know that he had a crush on Blaise, of all people. He had gotten over the crush years ago, of course, but still, Blaise was Draco's first boy crush. He was the first one to make Draco realize that he was Not Straight. And even now, three years later, he's still not exactly sure of his sexuality- he knows he is definitely attracted to guys, both romantically and sexually, but girls are tricky. He likes girls in general, and he always has; they're pretty and they smell good and some of them are somehow the living embodiment of the word soft, while others are super cool and brave and intimidating, and still others Do Not Give A Heck and are goddesses wearing high-tops with their hair in messy buns. He loves girls. He's just not quite sure if that love is romantic or not.

In the past, Draco has felt what seemed vaguely like a crush on a girl, but never even close to what he's felt for boys. Sometimes he feels like he would date a girl, sometimes he's not quite sure.

Maybe he's bisexual, but leans toward boys? Maybe he's gay and just feels platonic love for girls? Maybe he's just never met the right girl?

Either way, he's fine without knowing for sure. To call himself gay or bi or whatever would just be putting a label on love, and he knows he doesn't necessarily need that. It would be nice, but it's not really needed. For now at least, he's content just calling himself Not Straight.

He suddenly snaps out of his trance when he realizes Harry is talking to him.

"Sorry, what?" 

Harry sighs exasperatedly. "I asked if you're ready. They're all waiting in the hall."

"Oh," Draco nods. "Yeah, I'm ready."

Harry opens the door and the boys' bandmates flood in, crowding the small practice room.

"Get on with it, then," Pansy tells them, a bored expression on her face.

Draco counts off the beat with his drumsticks.

***

Their friends applaud. Harry bows very over-dramatically, a comically big grin presenting itself on his face.

"Can we get back to rehearsing for the show now?" Draco asks, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling that erupts in his stomach at Harry's adorable dorkiness.

He's got it bad.

Their bandmates- Granger, Pansy, both Weasleys, Blaise, Theo, Crabbe, Goyle, and Longbottom- huddle up, muttering amongst themselves, and Draco exchanges a slightly-worried glance with Harry. He does not want to have to write another song and lose even more rehearsal time.

On the other hand, some more alone time with Harry wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

He shakes his head, amazed at how quickly he's gone from hating the other boy's guts to actually wanting to spend time with him.

Finally, their friends come out of their huddle.

"The song is satisfactory," Pansy announces.

Harry pumps his fist in celebration, grinning, and turns to Draco, hand outstretched for a high-five. "We did it, D-Shizzle."

Draco lightly high-fives him, trying not to visibly swoon at the level of adorable.

Weasley- Ron- lets out a snort. "D-Shizzle?"

Draco turns up his nose slightly. "Much to my dismay, he has taken to calling me that. Unfortunately, death threats have not proven effective."

"Much to my dismay," Harry mocks him, drawling the words in a high-pitched, whiny voice.

"Are you seventeen or five?"

"Are you seventeen or five?"

Draco rolls his eyes as some of the others laugh.

"Whatever," Draco says, walking toward Harry and, ignoring the warning alarms going off in his head, holding out his hand. "It's been a pain working with you, Potter."

Harry clasps his hand and shakes it with a grin. "The pain was all mine."

***

That night, Harry lies wide awake in his bed for hours, staring at the ceiling and thinking.

Why does Malfoy blush so much lately? Every time they talk, every time they touch- he seems like he's constantly blushing, constantly flustered.

But it's not only that- he's been staring, too. Every now and then Harry will glance over at him and catch him staring.

Blushing, staring, getting flustered when they talk- what are these all symptoms of?

Harry knows, and he wishes he didn't.

There's no way Malfoy could have feelings for him. He hates the idea of such a thing.

He also hates the little fluttery feeling he gets in his stomach when he thinks about it.

He hates that he's lying to himself, and that he might not hate it quite as much as he wants to.

***

Over the course of the next few weeks, Harry is in a constant state of denial.

He's Malfoy, he tells himself, he's the worst.

But there's still that little nagging voice in the back of his mind that maybe, just maybe, he's not.

He didn't seem so bad when they were writing and practicing together. He was moderately nice once they got used to each other's presence. He definitely wasn't as stuck up as Harry used to think he was. He was funny, too.

But he's Malfoy. His parents worked for Voldemort, an infamous musician/producer who killed Harry's parents- which obviously makes them sworn enemies. They could never be friends.

But boyfriends? Lovers? Partners?

That was its own thing entirely.

Malfoy was a bloke, and Harry didn't swing that way. Definitely not. He knew there was nothing wrong with it- he just wasn't gay.

But, judging on Malfoy's behavior lately when they're together, he just might be.

***

About a month later, Draco nearly has a heart attack when Harry walks into Hogwarts wearing a uniform and nametag when he's just about to start his shift.

"Potter, what-" he sputters. "What are you doing here?"

Harry freezes in his tracks, staring wide-eyed at Draco, his mouth hanging slightly ajar. "I- er- I just got assigned to a new shift here. I'm about to start."

"Well," Draco says, trying to appear slightly disappointed- but not too disappointed- despite the fact that his inner self is currently screaming, dancing, and crying tears of joy all at the same time. "I guess we'll be working together, then."

Harry nods slowly, not taking his eyes off Draco. "I mean- you worked here first, so if you want I can ask for a new shift or something-"

"No!" Draco protests a little too quickly. "I mean- you don't have to get a new shift just because of me if you don't want to. I'm not going to make you change times."

Harry narrows his eyes. "Really?"

Draco nods.

Harry shrugs. "Okay, then. I guess we're working together."

"I guess so."

Draco is ecstatic.

***

They work together for the next few months, and Draco absolutely loves it.

He's not even trying to deny it anymore: he is head-over-heels in love with Harry Potter, and he likes him even more with every passing day.

Though neither of them will admit it to anyone, they've been getting along really well since they started working together. They're always cracking jokes and laughing together when they're not helping customers. It's almost as if they're friends.

Friends, Draco thinks dreamily to himself, collapsing onto his bed one day after getting home from work. If I can't have more, being friends is definitely okay with me- anything is okay as long as I get to spend time with him.


	5. Chapter 5

In the past, Draco used to idly wonder how a person in Harry Potter's position could be happy. His parents were dead, his uncle and aunt seemed to hate him, and he had had the entire music industry watching his every move from the moment he was born- how could anyone cope?

Even now that they've been spending time together and getting along, he's still not sure. He knows he himself has a hard time with his parents being so famous and having worked for Voldemort, but Harry must have it worse. He envies him for being so strong through every obstacle thrown his way.

Until Death Eaters show up at Hogwarts, that is.

It starts out as a normal day: Draco and Harry are goofing off behind the counter when a vaguely familiar-looking man with a suspicious expression on his face walks into the store.

Harry catches sight of him first, and stops the stranger from walking past the counter by asking him if he needs any help.

The man doesn't answer his question.

Instead, he merely narrows his hard, cold eyes at Harry.

"Potter," he says, his voice a low growl.

Draco's stomach jolts when he suddenly realizes where he knows the man from- he used to work with Draco's parents.

This is definitely not good.

The rivalry between Voldemort and pretty much all other musicians and producers was well-known in the industry- and also widely feared.

Voldemort was powerful and rich. He could do pretty much anything he wanted without consequence. He had a bad habit of ruining careers, and anyone who opposed him turned up mysteriously dead days, weeks, months, or even years later.

Of course, the connection between him and these deaths were often dismissed- likely due to fear- but the few times the connection was acknowledged by authorities, his cronies- Death Eaters, as most called them- took the fall for him.

Lily and James Potter were widely known for speaking out against him and helping to get him arrested.

The Potters faced multiple death threats, but one night, they were actually killed. The very same night, Voldemort himself was finally arrested and charged with their murders.

Harry was a year old.

Soon after his arrest, reports were released that Voldemort was charged with more murders than just those of the Potters, decreed a serial killer, and sentenced to death.

His followers were shunned, and many were arrested- but some managed to escape persecution, Draco's parents being two of them.

Draco knows this man. He remembers him from when he was small. He can vaguely recall him arguing with Draco's parents: whispers that Voldemort may be alive, after all.

He remembers his parents telling the man he was wrong, that Voldemort was dead, and that he would just have to accept it. After all, why would the court lie to the public and say he had been executed?

Harry narrows his eyes back at the man. "Do I know you?"

"No, but I know you."

"Dolohov," a voice snaps. The three all turn to see Severus Snape, one of the music teachers, scowling at the man. "What are you doing here?"

The man- Dolohov- glances around anxiously before replying in a low voice.

"You know why I'm here, Severus."

Snape gives Draco and Harry a suspicious glance and tells Dolohov to follow him, then leads him away from the scene.

"That was odd," Harry says, watching the two men go with a furrowed brow.

"That was worse than odd," Draco responds. "That man is- or was- a Death Eater. I remember him coming to my house when I was little and talking to my parents."

Harry appears alarmed. "Are you serious?"

Draco nods. "And the fact that he just left with Snape is even worse."

It's a well-known fact that Snape used to be a Death Eater. They say Dumbledore, the man who runs Hogwarts, hired him as a spy before Voldemort was arrested. However, many people still question his loyalties.

"We need to find out what's going on in there," Harry says.

And that's how they find themselves crouched outside Snape's office door straining their ears to hear whatever's going on inside.

"Are you sure?" Snape's voice says in a hushed tone- almost a whisper.

"Yes! I know no one believed me when he first disappeared, but it really is true, I swear! I saw it with my own eyes!"

"There's no way it could have been someone else? No way you're mistaken?"

"I'm absolutely sure. Voldemort is alive, and he is currently at my house."

Draco's stomach drops. He looks over at Harry, who looks ghostly pale. Hesitantly, he places his hand on Harry's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

"Why are you here?"

"He sent me to get you. You were one of his most trusted Death Eaters, and the best spy he ever had. We have to go to him now."

Snape hesitates for only a moment. "All right, then. Let's go."

Draco and Harry quickly scramble away from the door and into a dark and empty practice room across the hall, taking cover in the shadows just in time as Snape and Dolohov exit the office.

They wait until they hear the pair's footsteps fade, and then wait another minute or so after that to be safe.

Finally Draco peers out into the empty hall, then walks to the end of it to check around the corner.

"They're gone," he confirms when he returns to the practice room. He flips on the light to find a visibly shaken Harry sitting on the floor and staring at a point on the wall with a blank expression. "Harry? Are you okay?"

Harry says nothing. Draco crouches down on the floor next to him and touches his shoulder. "Harry?"

"He killed my parents," Harry whispers after a moment, his eyes not leaving the point on the wall. "He killed my parents, and he's still alive. He got away somehow."

"I know," Draco says in the softest, most soothing voice he can manage. "And I'm so, so sorry. But we can do something about it. We can call the cops or something."

Harry finally stops staring at the wall, and instead turns to scowl at Draco. "We? What do you mean, 'we?'"

"I-" Draco stutters, unsure of what to say. "I want to help-"

"No you don't," Harry argues. "You don't want to help me, you want to help him. Your parents are Death Eaters, after all."

Draco just looks at him with wide, hurt eyes. "But- Harry, I'm not-"

"Forget it!" Harry says angrily with a raised voice, standing from the floor. "There's no way I'm falling for your tricks, Malfoy, so forget about it. You can just go home and tell Mummy and Daddy that I know he's alive and that I will stop at nothing to see him rotting in prison. Go tell them their attempt at using you to spy on me didn't work."

"I'm not trying to spy on you-"

"Save it, Malfoy."

Draco can do nothing but stare as Harry storms out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Is this what people think of him? Do they all think that, given the chance, he would go running to Voldemort, eager to become a Death Eater?

They're wrong.

They're all wrong.

His parents may not see it, but Draco knows that what Voldemort did was wrong, and that he is pure evil.

He will never become a Death Eater.

He would rather die.

Before he can stop himself, Draco storms out of the room, following Harry. Leaving the hallway, he spots Harry exiting the building and going to the parking lot. He hasn't fully- or even partially, really- thought through this plan in his head before he breaks into a sprint.

He catches up to Harry in the parking lot and grabs his arm.

"Harry, listen to me," he demands angrily. "If this is what you think of me, you must be incredibly dense, because I would've thought you would know me better than that by now.

"I don't want to be a Death Eater. Okay? I've seen what it did to my parents. They have anxiety and trust issues. Sometimes I think maybe they have some sort of PTSD or something. When I was little- it still happens every now and then, but it was a lot more frequent when I was little- my mum would wake up screaming in the middle of the night. They're constantly terrified. That's not who I'm going to be. I'm not going to work for that vile man who murders without reason. I'm not going to be one of his henchmen. I would rather die- and I probably will, if he really is alive, because there is no way I am going to do anything he tells me to."

Harry stares at him, his jaw gritted in his effort not to let the tears spill out of his eyes, and doesn't speak.

"Do you know what the worst part is?" Draco says sadly, lowering his voice a bit. "I thought- I thought we were starting to be friends. I liked that. I thought that maybe our bandmates succeeded, and maybe we were finally getting past that stupid rivalry we've had since we were eleven and I said stupid stuff I didn't mean. But this just proves me wrong. The fact that I was trying to help you and you shut me down because of my parents' bad choices proves that you're still holding onto that ridiculous fight we've been in since we were kids. But guess what, Harry? We're not kids anymore. Not if he really is alive. If he's back, we just lost the last few years of our childhood, because we're both in a lot of danger and we're going to have to grow up now."

"I'm sorry," Harry says after a moment. "I- I thought you would be like them."

Draco nods coldly. "Evidently. So are you going to let me help you or not?"

Harry hesitates. "You swear you don't want to be a Death Eater?"

Draco nods.

"Swear on your life?"

"I swear on my life, on my parents' lives, on all my friends' lives."

After an excruciatingly long moment, Harry finally nods. "Okay. Let's do this."

***

"Let me get this straight," Granger says. "Voldemort is actually alive and has apparently been in hiding for the past sixteen years, you two are friends now, and you're going to team up to put him in prison?"

Harry and Draco nod.

"That's insane," Weasley says. "Harry, you know this is insane right? His parents are Death Eaters!"

"And your parents are great musicians," Draco says. "But in both of our cases, the apple sometimes does fall far from the tree."

"How do we know we can trust you?" Granger asks.

Draco shrugs. "You don't. You just have to take the plunge and hope for the best. And, in this case, the best will be what you get from me."

They exchange an unsure glance.

"I don't know," Weasley says, eyeing Draco suspiciously.

"Guys," Harry says to them. "I know that, after the past six years, it's weird to hear, but I trust him. Over the past few months, we've learned to get along, and- surprisingly- I think we're sort of friends now. I really do trust him."

They exchange another glance, but finally give resigned sighs.

"Okay," Granger says. "I still don't trust you, but Harry does, and I trust him, so that's good enough for me. You're in."

***

Pansy is even paler than usual.

"There's no way," she whispers. "There's no way he's alive. He can't be alive. He can't be."

Draco shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Pans. Dolohov was here, and we heard him tell Snape."

Pansy has lost many family members to Voldemort. Of course, she's too young to remember any of them, but she knows the effect their deaths had on her family.

Then there's her aunt. She was tortured into insanity by Voldemort when she finally decided to stop doing everything he said. She's in a mental hospital now. Pansy once told Draco the story of the only time she ever visited her aunt. She was nine, and her aunt kept muttering about murder and such. It really scarred her. Draco knows she won't want to work for him, which is why he decided to go to her.

"So," Pansy says softly. "You four are going to try to get him arrested?"

"Us and more," Draco tells her. "Harry has more friends who will probably be in, and we might be able to get some of our friends to join- although most of their parents were Death Eaters, so it's hard to tell where their loyalties lie, so we can really only ask our close friends that we know well. Are you in?"

Pansy doesn't respond for one long moment, but finally takes a shaky breath and nods.

"I'm in."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay: this one's a long one (4k words), has some violence but nothing graphic, and is definitely more stressful than the others. If you don't want to read it because it's so long or because you don't like angst or whatever, I'll put a summary in the end notes for you.

A few days later, their teams is assembled: Harry, Draco, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Luna, Pansy, and Blaise. Despite his efforts, Draco can't seem to get Theo to tell him whether or not he supports Voldemort without outright asking him, which means that he can't be on the team. Crabbe and Goyle mean well, but they're not exactly the brightest.

They plan to make quick work of this. They know they need to get the job done as quickly as possible before Voldemort kills anyone else.

Their plan is relatively simple, yet challenging and dangerous nonetheless: They'll follow Snape to Dolohov's house- or wherever Voldemort is now hiding- and text the others the address, then wait until nightfall. Then, Harry and Draco will find some way to break into the house and make sure Voldemort is actually alive and they're not doing all this for no reason, and have the rest waiting outside for their signal to call the cops. Then, if Voldemort is there, they'll seal off all but one of the exits, which they will guard so that if the Death Eaters catch onto what is going on, they won't be able to escape.

They go to the grocery store and get superglue of the highest strength they can find, along with binoculars and flashlights. They also pick up some other... supplies. Something to help them guard the only exit until the cops arrive.

That afternoon, they hang around at Hogwarts for a while until they see Snape leaving the building, glancing around cautiously.

Hearts pounding, they exit the building from a safe distance behind him and all pile into their cars in teams. Ginny, Luna, and Neville are in one car, Pansy and Blaise are in another, Ron and Hermione are in the third, and Harry and Draco are in the final car. They decided when they were making the plan to spread out and take turns following him so they would be harder to notice. One team will follow first while the rest pass them and drive up the road to wait in various different parking lots. When he turns onto a different road, one person in the car currently following him will text the rest to tell them the new route.

It is a difficult process, but it works moderately well. Snape doesn't seem to notice he's being followed.

Harry is driving behind Snape when he turns into the driveway of a large, ominous-looking house, but he keeps going without even slowing down as Draco texts the address to the others.

After a few minutes, they circle back to a spot a few houses down and wait for the rest of their team. From there, they all go park their cars in different spots along the side of the neighborhood street, far enough apart to not look like they're together, and walk to a spot across the street from the house concealed by bushes to begin their stakeout.

Nightfall seems like it will never come. The nine of them sit and wait for hours, and while they watch, three cars arrive at the house and none leave.

More Death Eaters in the house provides more danger for them, but at the same time, if their plan succeeds, that's just more Death Eaters for the police to arrest, and more evil the public will be safe from. At least, that's what Draco tells himself to calm his nerves when he sees more of them enter the house.

Finally it's dark outside, and it's time for Draco and Harry to break into the house while the others keep watch and wait for the signal: Draco and Harry waving to them from one of the house's many windows.

Draco and Harry leave their binoculars in the bushes with their friends and, just in case, say goodbye to their friends. Draco hugs Pansy and shakes hands with Blaise- the poor straight boy's masculinity is too fragile to hug- while Harry hugs the others. Then, under the cover of night, they sneak across the street.

"How should we do this?" Draco asks in a whisper once they're across the street, standing under a tree. "I don't know about you, but I really don't have much experience with breaking and entering."

"First we find a way in. Preferably an entrance where near a window so we can see if there's anyone who will see us going in that way."

So they do exactly that. They creep around to the back until they see a door with a window next to it showing an empty room inside.

"Perfect," Harry whispers, reaching for the door handle. 

"Wait," Draco hisses, grabbing his hand before he can touch the handle. He can feel himself blushing at the contact, and is immensely glad for the darkness. Now is definitely not the time for this, he tells himself. "They probably have an alarm system. And if it's anything like my alarm system at home, it'll beep when a door is opened. That could give us away. We have to wait."

"Wait for what?"

"I don't know- someone to come out of there? Someone to accidentally leave the door open? Something. We have to be careful and smart about this."

Harry sighs. "Okay, whatever. Let's just sit back and continue to wait."

They come up with a whispered plan. They'll wait for someone to come outside through the door, and if it doesn't happen soon, they'll create some disturbance outside to lure them out. Once they're out, Harry will hit them in the head with a crowbar they found amongst other tools in a shed a few feet away. Draco will grab the door before it closes, and hopefully, Harry will knock the Death Eater unconscious. Then they can sneak in.

They wait a few minutes, but no one comes.

"We need to give them a reason to come outside," Harry whispers urgently.

"Fine, fine," Draco whispers back. "Do something, but for the love of all things holy, don't get caught."

So Harry does what Harry does best- he annoys people.

He stands back until he spots what he's looking for- the one illuminated room in the entire dark house. And, like a lovesick teenage boy in a cliché teen romance movie, he throws a pebble at the second-story window.

He ducks out of sight immediately, and the two boys both watch apprehensively as a figure in a dark hood comes to the window and looks outside, ultimately seeming to decide there is no one there.

Once the figure walks away from the window, Harry throws another pebble. The figure is back quickly, seeming annoyed, and Harry barely has time to hide.

The two boys hear some sort of commotion coming from inside the house, and a hooded figure quickly descends the stairs and turns toward the door.

The boys quickly scramble to their positions, Draco on one side, poised to catch the door, and Harry on the other side, gripping the crowbar in his sweaty palms, poised to hit the Death Eater as hard as he possibly can.

The door flies open, Draco grabs it and holds it open, and Harry swings.

The Death Eater crumples to the ground, unconscious.

Draco nods at Harry stiffly, not knowing what to say in this sort of situation. "Um. Nice swing."

Harry returns the stiff nod. "Thanks. So, should we take the cloak?"

"What? Why?"

"If we take the cloak, one of us can pretend to be one of them and really infiltrate their ranks. You can't see their faces at all in these things."

"That's... that's smart. Let's do that."

"Okay- hey, what if I put on the cloak, then you come in with me and pretend to have been outside because you wanted to join? They'll buy it, since your parents are- well, you know."

Draco takes a shaky breath. "Yeah, I- okay."

"You don't have to do it if you don't want to. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do."

How considerate.

Draco shakes his head. "No, I'll do it. Just move that Death Eater somewhere else so the others can't just look out the window and see."

Harry nods and starts to drag the Death Eater away. Fortunately for him, this one is scrawny and doesn't weigh much.

After a minute, Harry comes back from wherever he stashed the Death Eater wearing the dark cloak.

"You ready?"

Draco takes another shaky breath and nods. "As I'll ever be."

Harry puts the hood over his head; he was right, you really can't see anyone's faces in those.

Hesitantly, they step inside the house and close the door.

Draco suddenly realizes that this could be the end.

This could be the end, and he's here with the guy he's hardcore crushing on- but he doesn't even know.

"Harry," Draco whispers urgently, heart racing, not wanting to tell him, but also not wanting to die without him knowing. "Just in case we don't make it out of here, there's something I need to tell you." He takes a deep breath. "I-"

"Rookwood," a voice barks. Startled, the two boys look at the stairs to see another hooded Death Eater standing there. "What's taking you so long? And who is- good lord, is that the Malfoy boy?"

"He- er- he says he wants to join," Harry tells him.

"Well, bring him up, then."

"Yeah, I- I'll do that."

The other man pauses. "You okay? You sound funny- your voice is higher than normal. You coming down with something?"

Harry clears this throat apprehensively and fakes a lower voice. "Yeah, er, I think I caught some sort of bug or something."

The other man nods. "Well, come on then, he's waiting. And you know how Voldemort gets when he's kept waiting."

Draco's stomach lurches.

He really is alive.

"Yeah," Harry says, his voice shaking slightly. "Certainly wouldn't want to keep him waiting!"

The other man shakes his head slightly, but turns and walks back up the stairs while Harry and Draco linger behind.

"Find a window," Draco hisses.

They both dash around for a moment until Harry spots a window about halfway up the stairs. They run up to it and together, they frantically wave to their friends until they see them scramble to get up from their sitting position. A couple of them immediately dash across the street, but Draco sees one holding a phone to their ear.

Quickly, they go up the stairs to the illuminated room and enter with Harry gripping Draco's arm as if making sure he won't run away.

"Draco, what are you doing here?"

Draco's heart drops.

That's his mother's voice.

She lowers her hood as she walks toward him, revealing a shocked expression.

"I-" Draco says, trying to sound genuine with his pre-planned lie. "I heard about what was going on here, and I wanted to join. I want to- I want to become a Death Eater."

"How did you hear about this?"

Draco internally cringes. He hasn't thought that far ahead.

Honesty is always the best policy?

"I was walking by Snape's office at Hogwarts and heard some guy- I think his name was Dolohov or something- telling him about it. I wanted to join, so I followed him here."

Suddenly, an office chair in the center of the room begins to turn around slowly, revealing the man sitting in it.

Draco feels Harry squeeze his arm tighter, and he wishes he could hug him or something, because he knows it must be horrifying to look into the eyes of the man who killed your parents.

Voldemort.

It is truly horrifying to look into the eyes of Voldemort.

The man is bald and sickly pale, and his face is grotesque- marred by scars, and with most of his nose entirely missing.

"Excellent," he hisses in a grating, awful voice that makes Draco want to cover his ears. "We always welcome new recruits. Isn't that right, Rookwood?"

Harry coughs and nods.

"Use your words, Rookwood."

"Yes. Yes sir."

Voldemort tilts his head and narrows his bloodshot eyes. "Rookwood, are you coming down with something? Your voice is sounding odd."

"Er, I think I may have caught a bug-"

"Oh, of course," Voldemort interrupts him, standing from the chair. Draco can feel Harry trembling as Voldemort approaches ever so slowly. "You're just not quite feeling like yourself, hm, Rookwood? Is that it?"

"Y-yes sir."

"Are you sure? You don't sound sure."

"I am sure. I'm just not feeling quite right. I'm sure I'm fine."

"Well, if you're fine, then answer me this: when you first joined our ranks, who was your first kill?"

"I- er- I don't-"

Voldemort suddenly takes one large step forward and whips the hood off of Harry's head, revealing his panic-stricken expression, along with the fact that he is definitely not Augustus Rookwood.

"Seize them- both of them!"

Draco feels strong hands grab his arms and yank him away from Harry. He yelps and instinctively reaches back out toward Harry, brushing their hands together before they are both pulled away from each other.

"Your boy is a traitor, Narcissa," Voldemort says coldly, turning away to walk back to his chair.

"Draco," his mother says in a breathy, almost scandalized sort of tone. "How could you? And with Potter, of all people?"

Voldemort freezes in his tracks and slowly turns back to look at Harry. "Potter, you say? Why, you wouldn't happen to be Harry Potter, would you?"

Harry only glares.

Voldemort grins an evil grin and approaches him once again. "I should've known- you're the spitting image of your father. Except for your eyes: you have your mother's eyes."

"Don't talk about my parents," Harry snaps at him.

"You watch your mouth, you stupid boy. I'll talk about whomever I wish to talk about. Dolohov, Carrow, escort this boy across the hall." The two Death Eaters who have Harry drag him, struggling, out of the room and across the hall as Voldemort follows.

"Is he going to kill Harry?" Draco asks, turning to his mum with tears brimming in his eyes.

His mother looks him in the eyes and nods.

He feels hot tears spill out of his eyes and race down his cheeks.

He never got to tell him.

After a moment, he realizes he can hear Voldemort talking to Harry. He's telling him about his parents- he's detailing to him how he killed them.

"And then I shot her, too, just before the police pulled up. I watched the light die in her eyes. And now I'm going to do the exact same thing to you."

He hear a gunshot. He lets out a sob and collapses, taking his captors to the ground with him.

"What was that?" one of the Death Eaters asks.

What a stupid question. Obviously it was the gunshot that killed Draco's soulmate.

Well, maybe they weren't quite soulmates, but Draco really liked him.

"I think someone else is down there," another Death Eater says. "Did that sound like a scream to you?"

"That was definitely a scream."

Draco suddenly realizes he was so distraught over Harry's death that he didn't even hear someone screaming downstairs.

He also realizes that the screamer must be one of seven people, none of whom he wants to get caught.

But it's too late to do anything; three Death Eaters have already dashed down the stairs.

"There are more of them," one of them calls. "A bunch! We need more assistance down here!"

Several Death Eaters leave the room and dash down the stairs, and Draco hears more screams.

The ones holding onto Draco lug him onto his feet and haul him out of the room and down the stairs to see his friends, old and new, desperately fighting for their freedom- and their lives.

After a few minutes, the chaos settles down, and they are all caught. He looks around at the tear-streaked faces of his friends and can't help but cry more.

He failed them.

He was the one who told Harry they should work together to bring Voldemort down. He was the one who started all this. He should have protected them. He should have kept them safe.

But now they're probably going to die.

The Death Eaters corral all eight of them into a corner together. Hermione grabs Draco's arm.

"Harry," she says. "Is he...?"

Tears spilling from his eyes, he nods grimly.

"Can't you see that this was his plan all along?" Ron snaps. "He was never on our side. He was on their side all along!"

"That's not true," Draco chokes out.

"Look, his mother is right there! He's a Death Eater just like the rest of them. He tricked Harry into trusting him, and he's the reason Harry's dead."

"That's not true," Draco repeats, louder this time.

"And why should I trust you?"

"Because I cared about Harry," Draco snaps. "And not just as a friend."

The group goes entirely silent. Ginny slaps a hand over her mouth. Blaise and Pansy both reach out to touch Draco's arm comfortingly- they've known he was Not Straight for a couple of years, but they were some of the only people he told.

Ron furrows his brow, seemingly confused. "What is that supposed to mean? Sounds like you're saying you had a crush on him or-" Ron stops as realization dawns in his eyes when Draco only stares at him, making no effort to stop the tears from spilling out of his eyes. "Oh. Sorry, I- I didn't know."

"Neither did I," a soft voice says from behind him.

Draco turns to see his mother staring at him with sorrow in her eyes.

"Why did you never tell me?" she asks quietly.

"I-" Draco chokes on his own words. "I didn't know how. And Father-"

"Forget about your father, Draco," Narcissa says. "We both know what he thinks about that sort of thing, but you also know what I think about that sort of thing. You know I accept and love you, right?"

Draco nods. "I know."

They are both silent for a moment until Narcissa speaks.

"Why did you do this, Draco?"

Draco doesn't break eye contact when he answers her. "I didn't want to end up like the two of you. I wanted to feel safe, and I wanted to feel like I had done the right thing. I had to try to make a difference."

At that moment, before Narcissa can answer, a Death Eater walks down the stairs cradling a limp body in his arms.

Harry.

Draco lets out a sob at the sight, and he hears a couple of the others do the same.

He truly is dead.

The two Death Eaters who dragged Harry into the other room descend the stairs to stand in the middle of the room, and Voldemort follows soon after.

He stands in the center of the room and, to Draco's contempt, the vile man has the audacity to grin.

"Harry Potter is dead," he proclaims, to be met with cheers and laughter from several of the Death Eaters.

"Now," Voldemort continues once the din dies down. "To deal with the rest of you." He turns toward the eight teenagers in the corner.

"I know you are frightened, but I will tell you now, there is no need to be- unless, of course, you choose not to join my side.

"I will give all of you the opportunity right now to turn to my side and become a Death Eater. Otherwise, you will die."

None of them speaks.

"Very well," Voldemort says after a minute of silence. He turns away from them and speaks to a Death Eater to his left. "Kill them."

"Harry didn't die in vain," someone says suddenly. Draco turns to see Neville Longbottom staring Voldemort down, blood all over the side of his face. "We can still fight. Just because Harry's gone doesn't mean we all are."

Voldemort pauses and looks back at him. "How touching," he says in a condescending tone. He turns back to the Death Eater from before. "Kill them now or I'll kill you."

The Death Eater pulls out a gun. Draco looks to his mother- she is crying silently, but she doesn't make eye contact with him or make any move to stop the Death Eater.

Draco suddenly realizes the Death Eater is standing right next to him, aiming his gun straight for his head. He closes his eyes and braces himself.

But instead of a gunshot, he hears a scuffle and several gasps. He opens his eyes, and the gun is no longer aimed at his head. In fact, it is no longer aimed at anything, because the Death Eater holding it is too busy staring to do anything with it.

He's staring at Harry.

Alive.

Harry is alive.

"Potter," Draco cries out. Before he can stop to consider his actions, he shoves his way past his Death Eater guard- who is too shocked to react in time- and runs toward Harry, encasing the boy in a fierce hug.

To his surprise, Harry reciprocates the hug just as fiercely.

"How sweet," a voice says. Harry and Draco immediately let go of each other and see Voldemort smirking at them. "Tell me, boy, how exactly are you alive?"

Harry shrugs. "You missed. I played dead. Hey, Hermione, how long has it been since you called the police?"

Hermione looks like a deer caught in the headlights, surprised at the sudden question. "About- about ten minutes, I'd say."

Only ten minutes? It's seemed like an eternity.

"And how far away, by your estimate, is the nearest police station?"

"Er- somewhere around ten minutes, I'd say."

Harry turns to smirk at Voldemort. "Don't you see now? Killing us won't do you any good. We may just be kids, but we're at least smart enough to call the cops."

This takes a moment to sink in, but when it does, chaos erupts.

Death Eaters are dashing madly for the doors and windows, only to find them sealed shut.

"We're also smart enough to bring superglue," Harry says. Draco smiles. Even though he's still terrified, it's nice seeing him so confident standing in front of the man who tried to kill him.

"This one's open!" a Death Eater exclaims from another room.

Voldemort smirks. "You missed one."

Harry smirks right back. "No, we didn't."

At that very moment, they hear the screams and crashes. A few feathers fly into the room.

"What the-"

Voldemort walks to the hallway between the rooms, and we follow.

The extra supplies they bought came in handy.

Before they were caught, the others set up several Parent Trap-type pranks all around the door- although these were more for bad guy-catching than for humor.

When one Death Eater opened the door, a huge net fell from the ceiling. Attached to it were multiple weights heavy enough to dent the floor. This alone caught several Death Eaters who, despite their joint efforts, simply cannot get themselves out.

Then, when Ginny pressed the button on the small remote she was hiding in her pocket, more nets fell. They knew that not all of the Death Eaters would be in the area when they first realized that door could open, so they decided to wait until they were all gathered in that area thinking they could escape through there.

Then, as a finishing touch, Luna pressed a button on her remote that released buckets of superglue, feathers, and glitter onto the Death Eaters; this one actually was more for humor than bad guy-catching.

The only two Death Eaters not in the trap are Draco's parents.

Lucius is refusing to look at his son, but Narcissa won't take her loving yet sorrowful eyes off of him.

"You think this will stop me?" Voldemort suddenly hisses. "I'll climb over all of them if I have to."

"No you won't," a voice says unexpectedly.

Draco turns to see a gun pointed directly at Voldemort's head.

And the person holding it?

Pansy.

Draco turns back to Voldemort to see him reaching for his own gun- only to find it missing.

"Poetic, isn't it?" Pansy says, taking a step toward him. "Your own weapon being your undoing? You know, you really should be more alert. It was just too easy for me to take this."

Voldemort snarls at her. "You wouldn't have the guts to kill me."

Pansy takes another step toward him, staring him down with cold, unforgiving eyes. "Would you be willing to bet your life on that theory?"

Faster than Pansy can react, Voldemort reaches down and grabs a gun dropped by a Death Eater in the confusion and aims it at her.

Before either of them can do anything, Voldemort suddenly has two more guns aimed at his head: the guns of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.

"Lucius," Voldemort hisses. "Narcissa. What do you think you're doing?"

Narcissa doesn't break eye contact with him. "Saving our son."

Before anyone can make another move, they hear sirens growing closer and closer by the second.

Pansy doesn't take her eyes off of Voldemort or lower the gun.

Soon, they hear someone rattling the doorknob of one of the superglued doors.

"Go around to the other side of the house," Harry calls. They all hear footsteps running around the house until a couple of police officers arrive in the open doorway, already holding their guns, only to freeze at the sight of the scene in front of them.

Several Death Eaters- probably around twenty- are in nets on the ground, covered in glue, feathers, and glitter, and a teenage girl is holding a man who is supposed to be dead at gunpoint.

"Here's your man," Harry tells them, gesturing to Voldemort. "He wasn't actually executed, and considering he murdered my parents, I feel like someone probably should have told me that. All the people in the hoods are his accomplices."

Seemingly baffled, the police officers- along with more still arriving at the door- begin to round up and arrest the Death Eaters. One of them calls for more transport on her walkie-talkie.

One police officer walks over and puts Voldemort in handcuffs, and others lead him away, despite his insisting that his followers will kill them.

The rest of the night is a blur to Draco. All he knows is that at some point, an officer talks to them about how dangerous this was and how they should not have entered the house, but that their actions were honorable and they did a good deed. His parents are taken in for questioning, but an officer tells him that since they ultimately betrayed the serial killer they worked for and helped to catch him, they may be able to get off with a lesser sentencing than the rest of the Death Eaters. Draco goes home with Blaise and sleeps in a spare room.

Finally, the nightmare is over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tl;dr: Harry and Draco sneak into the house hiding Voldemort and several Death Eaters while the others wait and keep watch. They get caught and Voldemort takes Harry into another room, then Draco hears him fire a gun and assume he killed him. The Death Eaters take Draco downstairs where Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Luna, Pansy, and Blaise have been caught and he threatens to kill them. Ron accuses Draco of being a Death Eater, and Draco denies it, telling them he has feelings for Harry in the process. The Death Eaters bring Harry's limp body downstairs, but Harry then reveals that he is alive and that the police are on their way. The Death Eaters try to escape, but the kids set up Parent Trap-style pranks that trap them inside the house. Pansy, along with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, hold Voldemort at gunpoint until the police arrive.


	7. Chapter 7

After all that happened in the previous few days, Draco feels odd when he finally returns to his normal schedule.

He goes back to work and school after a few days and resumes his lessons at Hogwarts- he even resumes band practice.

Battle of the Bands- which Draco had entirely forgotten about- is next week, but after everything that's happened, he doesn't care about it quite as much anymore.

He still cares. He wants to win. He's just not quite as intense about it as he was before.

He wonders idly if Harry heard him admit to having feelings for him when he was pretending to be dead, but he doesn't seem to be behaving any differently toward him than he was before, so he doesn't think he heard.

He also wonders if any of the others would tell Harry, but he doesn't think any of them are really the type of person to out someone without their permission.

Draco thought going into the fight with Voldemort that, if he made it out alive, he might be scarred or depressed for a while. Oddly enough, though, he is currently the happiest he has ever been.

He has new friends now. Before the whole Voldemort ordeal, he never thought he would say it, but Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville are actually his friends now. The nine of them who participated in getting Voldemort arrested all hang out together semi-regularly now, and aside from the occasional (or not-so-occasional) bickering and squabbling, they get along pretty well. No one else at Hogwarts can seem to figure out how that happened, but it did, and Draco is glad it did.

***

At long last, the fateful day arrives, and it is time to compete in the Battle of the Bands.

It all seems so silly and trivial to Draco now, but he knows that, had it not been for this competition, his bandmates never would have forced him to spend time with Harry, and none of them would have become friends.

And for that, he is grateful.

The Battle is fun. He likes getting to hang around with his friends, eating and listening to music.

Performing is fun, too.

It's odd: Draco thought that, after breaking into a house full of Death Eaters and having a gun held to his head, performing wouldn't be so scary anymore.

But he still gets the same jitters he got before.

Being up there on stage playing his drums, it almost feels as if nothing has changed.

His band, Slytherin, makes it to the finals.

Harry's band, Gryffindor, also makes it to the finals.

They are both to perform one last song for the judges in order to determine the winner.

Slytherin plays, and Draco is feeling confident and overjoyed. As he walks off the stage, he stops to speak to Harry.

"Scared, Potter?"

Harry smirks at him, and Draco feels as if that one facial expression could sustain him for life. "You wish."

And Gryffindor plays, too. They're amazing. Draco can't help but stare at Harry playing the guitar and singing onstage.

He is so screwed.

Finally, the song ends, and the judges tell the two bands that, in a few minutes, they will be called back for the results.

So they leave the stage area to wander around aimlessly for a little while, goofing off and teasing each other.

"Draco," Harry says suddenly after a few minutes. "Can we talk?"

"Er- yeah, sure."

Harry leads Draco away from the noise and into an empty hallway.

"So," he begins, seeming flustered. "I haven't said anything because, frankly, I didn't know what to say, but when we were at that house with Voldemort and the Death Eaters, I- I heard something."

Draco's stomach lurches. "Oh?"

Harry nods and takes a deep breath. "When I was pretending to be dead and we were still upstairs, I heard Ron accuse you of being a Death Eater. Then I heard you say- um- something about me."

Draco nods. "So, you know."

Slowly, Harry nods in response. "I know."

Draco bites his lower lip apprehensively, waiting for Harry so say something, anything.

Well, maybe not anything, but something.

Finally, Draco decides to take matters into his own hands and break the silence himself.

"Are you mad?"

Harry seems surprised. "Mad? Why would I be mad?"

Draco shrugs. "I don't know. Some straight guys get that way when a Not Straight guy likes them."

Harry lets out a short laugh. "That's because some straight guys are homophobic and afraid of what they don't understand."

Draco raises an eyebrow. "But not you?"

Harry shakes his head and smiles. "Not me." Suddenly, his smile melts off his face. "Actually, Draco, I-" he takes a deep breath. "I'm-"

Harry is interrupted by the voice of Professor Minerva McGonagall calling over a microphone for Gryffindor and Slytherin to return to the stage.

"Hold that thought?" Draco says.

"Um... yeah. Sure. It can wait."

Draco smiles at Harry and, though he seems a bit shaken about something, Harry smiles back. Together, they make their way back to the stage.

Once there, they join their bandmates a few feet away from one another on the stage and wait for the results to be announced.

McGonagall walks to the center of the stage and unfolds a piece of paper, then speaks into the microphone.

"The winner is..."

One of the drum teachers does a drumroll.

"Gryffindor!"

Gryffindor and most of the audience erupt into celebratory cheers, and Slytherin claps for them good-naturedly.

The members of Gryffindor run to the front of the stage to accept their trophy- except Harry. He stands only a few feet away from Draco, not taking his eyes off of him.

"What are you waiting for?" Draco asks him, nearly having to yell to be heard over the din. "Go get your prize."

Harry nods, a hint of a smile ghosting over his face. "Oh, I will."

Harry begins to walk toward Draco, and before he fully realizes what's happening, their lips collide.

Harry wraps his arms around Draco's waist and pulls him closer as his soft, warm lips move perfectly in sync against Draco's, and Draco can't tell how he manages to think clearly.

Draco certainly can't.

Fireworks go off in his stomach. He is absolutely giddy.

Although he may have lost Battle of the Bands, he feels like a winner today.

He hears gasps from the people on the stage, and some of the audience members applaud louder.

After what seems like both an eternity and the blink of an eye at once, he and Harry finally break apart and press their foreheads together.

"Remember when I was about to say something before I got interrupted?" Harry whispers.

"Yeah," Draco whispers back.

Harry smiles. "I'm definitely not straight."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this last chapter is an epilogue of sorts, and was written solely to satisfy my craving for fluff and my need for a sappy ending.
> 
> I just want to say thank you for reading this fic. I put a lot of time and effort into it, and I love it a lot, so if you actually took the time to read it, thank you so much. It means a lot to me.

It's been four months since the Voldemort incident, and they're doing well.

Pansy is a bit scarred from aiming a gun at the head of the man who tortured her aunt into insanity and killed half her family, but at the same time, she feels more confident and strong than she ever has before. If she could defend herself against Voldemort and all those Death Eaters, she figures she can defend herself against pretty much anyone.

The rest of them still have jitters and the occasional nightmare about the whole ordeal, but they're pretty much fine.

Draco's parents went to court but managed to avoid jail time since they turned on Voldemort in the end, but they do have to do community service for a while.

Draco and Harry are still going strong. They go out every Friday night, and while they do bicker and argue like every couple, their relationship couldn't be stronger.

Even though they're done taking lessons at Hogwarts, they continue to play music. Sometimes they'll get their old bands together to play; sometimes they'll have a big group session; sometimes it'll just be the two of them playing together like when they wrote that song.

Even though the Battle of the Bands was just a silly competition that they both got too invested in, they will remain grateful for it forever.

After all, if it weren't for Battle of the Bands, they wouldn't be together.

***

One day, two years later, Harry is looking for something in his sheet music folder when he stumbles across the song they wrote back when they were seventeen about falling for someone you never thought you'd fall for and learning something new about yourself along the way. He smiles to himself when he realizes how real the song became for him months after they wrote it.

He also realizes they never gave the song a title.

An idea starts to form in Harry's head, and he abandons his search, taking the sheet music for their song from his folder. He takes a pencil and, across the top, writes the words "Draco's Song."

***

Draco can't see anything.

Pansy and Blaise have blindfolded him and are leading him to some location unbeknownst to him, and he is reminded of that day when they shoved him into an empty practice room with Harry.

That day changed everything.

"Where are we going?" Draco asks them once again.

"Just be patient and you'll find out," Pansy tells him once again.

They help him into a car, help him buckle, and he feels the car start up and begin moving.

After a few minutes, the car turns off, and Pansy and Blaise help him out.

"Okay, guys, really. What is going on?"

He feels a hand untying his blindfold. It falls away, and they're at Hogwarts at night.

"Why are we at Hogwarts?" Draco asks, turning to Pansy. She's smiling at him knowingly, and he thinks he might know what's going on.

"Just go inside," she tells him softly.

So he does. When he gets inside, the lights are all off, and a path from the entrance to the hallway is lined with candles and flower petals.

Tears begin to well in his eyes. He knows what this is.

Suddenly, people begin to emerge from the shadows. His old teachers from when he took lessons here. They all smile at him, and some hug him.

They all hand him dragon snap flowers.

As he continues to walk along the path, more people emerge: his friends, who also smile at him and give him dragon snaps.

He enters the hallway and begins to hear the strumming of a guitar in a familiar-sounding melody.

The last people on the path are his parents.

Lucius smiles at him and apologizes for his closed-mindedness, saying he accepts and loves him. Narcissa hugs him tightly with tears in her eyes and tells him she loves him.

The path leads Draco into a practice room.

But not just any practice room: the one he and Harry used when they were writing their song.

Suddenly Draco realizes why the melody sounds familiar: it's an acoustic, more toned-down version of the song he wrote with Harry.

Clutching his bouquet of dragon snaps, he walks into the practice room, where Harry is playing the guitar and smiling through tear-filled eyes. He begins to sing, and it's their song.

When he finishes the song, he sets his guitar to the side and kneels.

He asks Draco to marry him.

Draco has never cried more in his life. They hug and kiss when Draco says yes, and then everyone goes out for celebratory drinks.

***

Draco's Song is played for their first dance as husbands.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment with feedback and/or request a oneshot! Thanks!
> 
> -Emma
> 
> Find me on Tumblr: [mykinkisdracomalfoy ](http://www.mykinkisdracomalfoy.tumblr.com)


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